Never Good at Being Human
by RissaRW
Summary: Haunted by the guilt of betraying his brother more than once, Frankie mulled over his existence. Being human never suited him, but Edward felt differently. Oneshot, told from Frankie's POV.


**Disclaimer: I don't take any credit for the concepts or characters. This is purely fanfiction, written for fun. A peek into the mind of Frankie D. This explores scenes from the movie and also overlaps my other fanfiction, The Ultimate Betrayal, as Frankie mulls over his existence. Thanks and enjoy :)**

"Do you like being a vampire, son?" CEO Bromley questioned, as he approached casually to perch on the edge of his desk. His eyes peered down at me, where I sat in the high backed chair trying to hide my discomfort. Under his scrutiny, I knew it was wise to mask my unease. Beneath the curiosity, there resided suspicion. My brother had raised many eyebrows when he helped those humans escape. So far, his actions were classified information undisclosed to the public- if only to preserve the reputation of the company. Right now, it was my turn to be interrogated, and to try to clean up my brother's mess.

"Yes, sir," I responded, glancing up at him with an innocent expression.

"Why?" he asked, tilting his head while he studied me. He watched my reaction, looking for any sign of hesitation or weakness.

I dropped my eyes for a brief moment, mulling over the question, while Bromley continued to express his suspicions. Ever casual and gracious, he said, "Your brother doesn't seem to approve. I wonder if that's a common trait in your family."

When I glanced back up, I saw his calculating gold eyes narrow ever so slightly. Even as a vampire myself, the intensity of his stare almost unraveled my military composure. I had to suppress a shudder and as his question stirred up conflicting emotions, I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. Memories from before the outbreak bullied their way into my conscious thoughts, reminding me why I made the change in the first place.

_Loud music blared from my headphones, effectively destroying whatever rational thought that might have worked its way into my alcohol-soaked mind. I laid there on the couch and ignored the wreck I had made when I came home. The coffee table was broken, chairs in the kitchen were overturned, and all kinds of books and various objects littered the carpet. The mess was almost poetic, in its contrast to the magazine-ready perfection the place had been in before I arrived. I forgot to give a damn that it wasn't even really my house._

_I didn't hear the door open. I didn't hear anything but the heavy drums and screeching guitar blasting in my ears. But a hand grabbed my shoulder and I snapped my eyes open to see Ed, his normally-cool blue eyes fierce in his fury. He was saying something, but his words were drowned out. Smirking, I lifted my headphones from my ears. "What?" I asked loudly. "I can't hear you."_

_Ed pressed his lips together and tore away from me, walking away. He didn't leave the room, though. He looked around with his hands thrown up, unable to believe what he was seeing. _

_"What the hell is this?"_

_"A messy house. You should think about getting a maid, bro."_

_Ed turned to fix me with a hard look, not at all amused."You think this is funny? You're so childish, Frankie," he said, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, exasperated. He reigned in his anger to look at me, practically begging for an answer as he asked, "Why did you do this?"_

_To be honest, I had a meltdown. I got into a fight with an asshole customer at work, and my boss fired me on the spot. I left before I did something that would put me in prison, and took my anger out on Ed's house, mostly the living room and kitchen. It was my bad, but I wasn't about to admit that. I just ignored my brother, chewing the inside of my cheek to stop myself from confiding in him. As he stood there in the wreckage of the living room, he looked out of place; his neatly-combed hair, spotless dress shirt and even his anger was well-groomed, contained. He was everything I wasn't. And at the time, I hated him for it._

_"Frankie, talk to me, please," Ed persisted, taking a step closer. "I'm here for you, if you would just say something."_

_"Just leave me alone," I snapped, standing up from the couch. I shouldered past him on my way for the door, but he caught my arm._

_"I know what happened today. I know why you're angry-"_

_"No, you don't know anything," I spat, tearing my arm from his grasp. Instead of walking away, I stepped closer, on the offensive. "You're just so damn perfect! How can you know how I feel?"_

_He tensed defensively, intimidated by my aggression, but didn't back away. He braved my smoldering glare, as he attempted to reason with me. "I'm just trying to help you-"_

_I felt like a teenager again, but I might as well have been. Even at twenty years old I had nothing to show for myself. And Ed was a college chemistry professor, a walking definition for success and even though he had never been the kind of brother to belittle me, just standing there was enough to make me feel inferior. "I don't want your help! Alright? Just get off my back. You're not Dad!"_

_"You think Dad would be proud of you right now? Look at yourself! Frankie, please-"_

_Whatever he was going to say next, I never knew. My temper boiled over and before I could stop myself, my fist connected with the side of his face. The right hook knocked him out cold and he fell sideways, almost landing in the broken glass on the hardwood. A dark bruise formed on his chin. Guilt compelled me to pick his limp body up, dragging him to the couch where I carefully set him down. I wanted to apologize, but I was too ashamed to face him when he came to. I left, retreating like a coward, leaving him in the wake of my destruction. _

_By the time I worked up the guts to look him in the eyes again, I arrived in my army uniform to visit one last time before heading off to boot camp. Joining the army was the only noteworthy decision I ever made as a human..._

Snapping back to the present, I was all too aware of the prying eyes peering down at me. The remorse and self-disgust haunting my eyes quickly faded as I composed myself. My words were spoken quietly, careful not to reveal any trace of uncertainty. "I'm good at this. I was never very good at being human, sir...and I'm not my brother," I added the last part to stress my loyalty to the company, assuring him I would continue to serve and fulfill my duties.

As I said the words, I hoped the CEO of Bromley Marks was more convinced than I was. Impressed by my reporting Ed's meeting with those two human rebels, he deemed me trustworthy. Part of me wondered if that was actually a bad thing; a reflection of my character in a not so flattering light. I was careful not to reveal that self-doubt, in the presence of the man who could very easily have me executed if he suspected disloyalty. After I was dismissed, I walked down the hall in a detached state of mind. My boots found their way through the building while my thoughts inevitably led to the brother I had betrayed, more than once.

As guilt plagued me, dogging my every step, I became angry. At myself. At Ed. At the whole godforsaken world. Why did I have to feel like this? I thought I was good at being a vampire, but apparently I was wrong. I didn't know who I was anymore. But I did know one thing for sure; I was thirsty for blood. That, at least, I could rely on. The craving for pure, undiluted human blood.

My tongue naturally ran over my fangs at the thought. Soon, I would be dispatched with the others to intercept a group of humans spotted heading along the river not too far from the city. Until then, I had nowhere to be. With nothing to distract me, I found myself dwelling on the guilt that had been festering for years. No matter how hard I tried, I always screwed up. Somehow, I never failed to disappoint Ed. Why was it, every time I thought I was doing the right thing, I only ended up hurting him? He sided with the humans, which shouldn't have surprised me. He never got over what I did to him, almost nine years ago...

_Warmth radiated against my chest, seeping into my cold skin like the sunlight I would never feel again. With my arms wrapped around a battered and broken Ed, I held him as tight as I could without crushing him. My dead heart already ached with guilt, as I anticipated what I was about to do. While his guard was still down, I knelt on the cushion beside him and braced a hand against the arm of the couch. The change in my posture intimidated him, because he sank further into the cushions and quivered a bit, like a cornered animal._

_The effort he made to contain his fear was clear in his voice, as he asked cautiously, "Are you alright?" _

_"No," I told him stiffly. There was no reason to lie._

_"What's wrong?"_

_I resisted the urge to laugh harshly. Everything was wrong. The bullshit the public was fed through the news, about humans having no need to be concerned over vampires replacing their politicians... it was all lies. There wasn't going to be peace. Call it evolution or the freaking apocalypse, there was no stopping what came next. Vampires were taking over, and humans had two choices; turn, or become cattle. And Ed was too damn stubborn to assimilate. He was going to get himself killed. That much was made clear to me, after I witnessed him being ripped out of his car, almost ending up a meal. The vampire would have devoured him and left him there on the side of the road, without an ounce of remorse. _

_For such a genius, my brother was an idiot. Parking on the side of the road, at night, knowing about all the vampire attacks- it was like he had a death wish. He wouldn't survive in the new world. _

_"I can't let you do it," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I watched tears fall from the tip of my nose onto his ruined shirt._

_When I lifted my head, fixing an intent stare on him, he raised his arm defensively. All the trust he had displayed after inviting me for a hug vanished, once again replaced by uncertainty and fear. The way I was leaning over him obviously intimidated him. He was terrified of me, which only fuelled my determination to change him. "You're going to get yourself killed, Ed. I won't let you do that," I said, without offering any further explanation. What came next would be self-explanatory._

_All the color drained from his face as he understood my intentions. Before I could sink my teeth in, his hand pushed against my chest and he struggled to keep me back._

_"No!" he cried, his blue eyes wide with terror._

_He was no match for me, even if one of his arms weren't broken. That injury was the only reason I held back, not wanting to risk causing him any unnecessary pain. I relented, only to pin his arm down and keep him from moving. In the struggle, I felt a rush of excitement, hearing the sound of his frantic heart. My eyes flew to the exposed flesh of his neck and the thirst flared up again. I hadn't fed before I followed Ed on the drive home, figuring that I would be less likely to lose the nerve. My fangs were bared and I prepared to get it over with._

_"Frankie!" Ed called in an attempt to sway me. The desperation in his voice pulled my attention to his face, and I paused to listen, if only out of respect than anything. "Please, don't do this. I'd rather die!"_

_If that was supposed to convince me, he was kidding himself. 'I'm sorry, Ed,' I wanted to say, but I remained silent. Without hesitating any longer, I gripped his chin to turn his head and sank my teeth into his neck. He screamed in pain, struggling against it, making it more painful than it had to be for us both. It was too late to resist, too late to stop what had to be done. The tension of his muscles slowed the flow of blood, forcing me to bite harder, sinking my fangs deeper. I had a purpose, a reason to be doing this. That's what I convinced myself, while the predator in me took pleasure in drinking from struggling prey._

_When the struggling stopped, and the heart pounding in my ears slowed to a weak, erratic pace, I had to tear myself away. Standing up, I threw my head back and savored the last of the blood gathered in my mouth. The feeling was hard to describe. It was unlike eating human food, and more like shooting up a potent drug. The vampire in me wanted the high to last, but as the rush faded away I was forced to look down and face the aftermath of what I had done. Clutching at the savage wound on his neck, Ed began to convulse. He writhed there on the cushions, letting out ragged gasps and whimpers of pain as the virus took over his system._

_The blood suddenly terrified me. Even as traces of it still smeared my lips, seeing the blood gushing from his neck triggered a different reaction. I rushed over, desperately pressing my hand over the wound I tore with my own teeth._

_"Ed, oh god, I'm sorry," I choked out, as I pulled him up from the pillows. I clutched him to my chest before leaning back against the other side of the couch. Blood covered my hands, and tears flooded my eyes with the fear he would bleed to death before he turned. His unbroken arm joined the other, curled up against his chest as his body jerked in my arms. His whimpering turned into screams of agony. I just held him, telling him he would be okay, begging him not to hate me. I tried to help him understand, I never meant to hurt him. I only did it to protect him. I didn't know if my words ever reached him through the pain of the change, because he never understood. When he finally fell silent- when his blue eyes changed to vampire gold, that was when I lost him..._

A furious snarl tore from my lips as my fist collided with the wall. Pain reverberated through my arm, but I ignored it and stared at the gaping hole that I knew would come out of my pension.

"Dalton?" someone said. I should have winced at the realization of being caught, but instead I turned a glare on my fellow soldier, daring him to scold me. Part of my aggression subsided when I recognized the vampire who stepped around the corner, joining me in the otherwise empty hall.

"Jake," I greeted him glumly, pulling my fist from the wall before moving to the other side, slumping down on the bench placed there for no apparent reason other than to fill the space. There was an ashtray on the small table beside it with a few cigarette butts left there, so the employees must have used the hall as a break space away from the actual break room. Since our lungs had no real importance, being undead and all, many vampires had picked up the habit and smoked without fear of medical repercussions. I never cared for the taste.

Jake perched on the bench, wisely leaving some space between us. He found out the hard way that invading my personal space when I was in a bad mood wasn't a good idea. "Don't beat yourself up, Frankie," he said, glancing over at me.

I refused to look at him, glaring down at the floor instead as I sat with my elbows rested on my knees. "Who said I was?" I shot back.

"Come on, I know you. You think you did the wrong thing, why else would you be so pissed off?"

"Shut up, Jake. Get away from me before I punch another hole, _in your head_."

My threats never affected him; he was never intimidated, or angered by it. He just sat there with his arms folded, looking at the hole I made in the wall with an unimpressed, deadpan expression. "He made his choice, Frankie. That's on him, not you. Don't let it mess with your head; you're one of us, we need you."

For a long moment I just sat in silence, unsure how to respond or what to think. Everything I thought made sense suddenly seemed like insanity. Right and wrong, black and white, it had all run together like someone spilled wine all over the guidelines to morality. It had all turned into unintelligible smears of grey, and the only thing that made sense was the stain of red. The color of wine; the color of blood.

The tears that had blurred my vision were blinked away. The fingers I had entwined in front of my face loosened before clenching into fists, and I sat up, glaring at the gaping hole in the white wall in front of me. That hole mirrored the cold, black void where my heart should have been. All the guilt plaguing my conscience was driven away, as red replaced black and white. Blood was the only thing I understood, anymore. The thirst burning my throat became my only concern, the only thing I relied on.

"Frankie?" I heard Jake call, reaching to touch my shoulder, concerned by my silence and tense posture.

Before he could touch me, I stood up and began to walk, compelled by nothing but the promise of blood. The troops were preparing to leave, I knew; the humans weren't going to make it to their little safe haven, not if I had anything to do with it. "Let's go," I told Jake tersely, before I disappeared around the corner, leaving him to stare after me in confusion. I left my guilt, my sadness, all of my humanity behind for good. After all, I was never good at being human.


End file.
